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THE 



AMERICAN CYCLOPS, 



3 a la E 11 



SPOILER OF SILVER SPOONS. 



Dubbed LL. D. 



Ta^.^' ' -r- M*^ <^^' 



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^y of Waih\»^tf'"' 



BALTIMORE: KELLY & PIET. 

1868. 
V 






TA' 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in tbe year 1867, by 

KELLY & PIET, 

In tbe Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the 

District of Maryland. 




^^^I^HE following little illustrated effusion is offered 
^ffS to the public, in the hope that it may not prove 
altogether uninteresting, or entirely inapjoropriate to 
the times. The famous pre -historic story of Ulysses 
and Polyphemus has received its counterpart in the 
case of two well-known personages of our own age 
and country. Ulysses of old contrived, with a burn- 
ing stake, to put out the glaring eye of Polyphemus, 
the man-eating Cyclops, and thereby to abridge his 
power for cannibal indulgence; while our modern 
Ulysses, perhaps, mindful of his classical prototype, is 
content to leave the new Polyphemus safely "bottled- 
up" under the hermctical seal of the saucy Rebel 
Beauregard. Although the second Cyclops is yet 



4 Introductory. 

alive, and still jiossesses the visual organ in a squint- 
ing degree, a regard for impartial history compels us 
to add, that the sword which leapt from its scabbard 
in front of Fort Fisher, has fallen from the grasp of 
the "bottled" chieftain, whether from an invincible 
repugnance to warlike deeds, like that which pervaded 
the valiant soul of the renowned Falstaff, or because 
an axe on the public grindstone is a more congenial 
weapon in the itching palm of a Knight of Spoons, 
has not yet been determined with absolute precision. 
The warrior Ulysses, like his namesake of Ithaca, 
however widely opinion may militate upon his other 
qualifications, certainly deserves the everlasting grati- 
tude of a spoon-desolated country for the strategy 
displayed in tearing off the plumes of the American 
Polyphemus, and lixing that precious flower of knight- 
hood among the "bottled" curiosities of natural 
historv. 



Wilt ^tmxuun fythf^. 

Progressive age ! for contemplation's eye, 
Thy checker'd scenes a glorious field sujDply ; 
Time was wlien Mercmy waved the potent wand, 
And Nature brightened in the artist's hand, — 
When mind's dominion round the world was thrown, 
Before usurj^ing Mammon seized the throne. 
AsjDiring genius, chill thy noble rage, 
For baser uses rule our iron age ; 
Drive the hard liargain, mart for sordid gain. 
And where it will not win, hold honor vain ; 




^ /-• Ki -rj,r(^vjt^/fW Jr. 



•He \vake.s a patrio.t; iufstd, hp i^ o\-m\ 
As Fallstairibr the battle— raving inad."' 



The American Cyclops. 

To lofty subjects bring the narrow view, 

Shift with each scene, and principle eschew. 

Are these the elements of man's success ? 

Go where the busy throng all onward press : 

Ay, there they flourish and will long remain, 

Till virtue purge the haunts where vice doth reign. 

Not to the few the moral taint's confined. 

But in its boundless range infects mankind ; 

'Twere idle to upbraid the good old plea — 

Might governs all, the rest were mock'ry. 

The plumpest fly a sparrow's meal j^rovides — 

The heartless bird its agony derides : 

"Nay," quoth relentless Sparrow, "you must die, 

For you, weak thing, are not so strong as I;" 

A Hawk surprised him at his dainty meal, 

In vain the Sparrow gasped liis last appeal ; 




- 7- = -^ 



I 



The Americax Cyclops. 9 

"Wherefore, Sir Hawk, must I, thy victim, die?" 
" Peace," quoth the Hawk, "thou art less strong than I." 
Grimly an Eagle viewed the state of matters, 
Swoops on Sir Hawk, and tears his flesh to tatters : 
"Release me. King, and doom me not to die ;" 
The Eagle said, "thou art less strong than I." 
A bullet whistled at the victor's word. 
And pierced the bosom of the lordly Ijird ; 
"Ah, tyrant!" shrieked he, "wherefore must I die?" 
The Sportsman said, "thou art less strong than I." 
And thus the world to might becomes the dower, 
While justice yields before remorseless power. 



When distant ages rise to view our times, 
Whate'er betide our silrry flowing rhymes. 



The American Cyclops. 11 

The l)rcave we sing — Boeotian of the East 
Will still survive to spread the mimic feast. 
'Tis said in fables that Silenus old 
To Midas lent the fatal gift of gold ; 
But Terminus, the god of rogues, has giv'n 
Our hero gold unbless'd of man or heav'n. 
'Mid all the tyrants of our age and clime. 
He stands alone in infamy and crime ; 
Not e'en Thersites of the cunning tribe, 
Gloried in guile like him we now describe. 
Born of a race where thrift, with iron rod, 
Taught punic faith and mocked the laws of God ; 
Where stern oppression held her impious reign. 
And mild dissent was death with torturous pain ; 
His youth drank in the lessons of his race. 
Which stamp'd their impress on his hideous face. 







*-2 



The American Cyclops. 13 

Old England's bard \yith epic fire illum'd 

Tartarean pits, where fiends with darkness gloom'd ; 

But "mid th" infernal host this face had shone, 

Grimmest of all "neath dread Armageddon. 

The outward form proclaimed the inner man, 

And frightened virtue fled where it began ; 

The heart, the head, there devils might fear to dwell, 

Lest in their depths there lurked a deej^er hell. 

Does fiction, fancy, gild the picture drawn. 

Hate cloud our judgment, truth give place to scorn? 

Go seek the answer in the youth at school — 

He scofts at church and laughs at human rule. 

A beggar,* he plays his role with brazen cheek, 

With equal ease insurgent or a "sneak." 

* He entered College in his sixteenth year as a future candidate for the 
ministry. As he was without resources, he was compelled to do manual 
work to meet tlie expenses incurred at the Institution. The fact is creditable. 




> — 

-2 a 



The American Cyclops. 15 

A theologian, without doctor's chair, 

He dons the gown t' escape the task of prajer. 

^'Heresiarch recant, or leave the school:" 

A recantation proved the knave no fool/^' 

Behold him later in another sphere, 

Where thieves abound and murderers appear ; 

Tricked out in low and meretricious art, 

He plays with skill the pettifogger's part ; 

Chicanery's brought to succor darkest crime, 

Too basely foul t' expose in decent rhyme. 

Oh ! shades of Littleton and Murray rise, 

Where Webster trod and Choate all honor'd lies — 

* Many instances are related of his insubordination at school and disputes 
with superiors. One of the preachers having advanced the opinion that 
only one in every hundred Christians vi^ould, perhaps, be saved, our hero 
drew up a theological petition asking leave to vacate his seat in church, 
very candidlj' regarding himself as araong the number that would be lost. 
A public reprimand for his smart irreverence was the only answer vouch- 
safed the unfledged Doctor. 




^^ Ki. 



■Our licro vowed M;igni.liM-'.'< woikN to ijike. 
Wheieof ilie books no memion deign to make.' 



The American Cyclops. 1"^ 

Rise to behold the satyr in their place, 
Who points the moral of his clime and race ; 
And if decay and shame may wake thy grief, 
Weep for Xew England cursed by such a chief. 



Oh ! hapless hour, when from the stormy Xorth, 

This modern Cyclops marched repellent forth, 

To slake his thirst for blood and plundered wealth, 

Xot as the soldier, but by fraud and stealth ; 

To waft the gales of death with horror rife 

On helpless age, and wage with women strife : 

To leave at Baltimore and New Orleans 

The drunkard's name, or worse, the gibbet^s scenes; 

To license lust with all a lecher's rage. 

And stab the virtue of a Christian age : 




■lioni ol M r.-icc whci-o thrin. wiili imn io,|. 
■I'Miiglif pnnir faith ami inocke.l the laws ..l" (i,,.l 



Ilis yoiitli lii'ank in the lossoiis of his race. 
Which Ntanip'd ihi-ir inipre;!.- mi his hideous I'aue.' 



The American Cyclops. 19 

This single crime will fix a beastly name, 

Fresh in immortal infamy and shame. 

"Whence comes his martial fame, who thus has soar'd, 

While thousands fell and deadly cannon roar'd ? 

The raw militia of his native State 

Had taught him war and made our hero great. 

A pot-house soldier, he parades by day, 

And drunk by night, he sighs the foe to slay ; 

In vision sees the future road to fame. 

The bale-fires burn and cities wrapped in flame : 

The gathered treasure of a teeming land 

Glitters and falls beneath his blood-stained hand ; 

Plantations smiling, palaces all bright. 

Stuff 'd witli their wealth of plate, dance to his sight, 

And drunken Polyphemus''' grimly swoons, 

^ Monstnun et horrendum, informe, ingens, cut lumen ademi)inm. Virg. 
-'Eneiil. lib. iii. 




•S 'JC -^ r 



The American Cyclops. 21 

As heir expectant of unnumbered spoons.* 
He wakes a patriot ; presto, he is clad 
As Fallstaff for the battle — raving mad. 
Lo ! Baltimore becomes the first emprise, 
When Gilmor's scandal shock'd the men at Guy's : 
"To horse, to horse," our hero drunk exclaims, 
"I'll crush rebellion — give the town to flames." 
The faithful groom the pawing steed attends. 
The maudlin Cyclops all oljlique ascends ; 
But ere the lamljent flames consume the town. 
The Cid unhorsed, like Bacchus, topples down. 
Old Juno's goose erst saved imperial Rome, 
But Rebel whisky saves the Rebels' home. 
Xext comes the dismal order — 'tis from Scott — 



" The people of a captured city were subjected to fines and levies and 
open plunder, and in some instances imprisoned at hard labor with ball and 

chain. 




•Fralfl-nal di.'^coiU uiase.' 



The American Cyclops. 23 

"Leave Baltimore." He blew a warlike trump, 
And m^arched to conquest — conquest of a pump ! 
Like Falstaff, seeks repose and dreams of glory, 
While Bethel's thunder peal'd another story ; 
Leaves gallant Winthrop to his mournful fate, 
But takes the field when haply 'tis too late. 
Wrath gnaws his bowels, and with words profane. 
He swore an oath, as once the Queen of Spain 
Vowed the same garment mahjre wear and tear. 
Till Ostend fell she would forever wear. 
Our hero vowed Magruder's works to take. 
Whereof the books no mention deign to make ; 
P'or well we know the batteries poured their thunder, 
While wise Sir Spoons sought easier paths to plunder. 
But lo BaccJte ! A'ictory comes at last — 
Our doughty chief in Xew Orleans is cast ; 




■^ <D I. « 



.i 3 o^ i- 



The American Cyclops. 25 

The doiike}^ stole the lion's skin and hrayed, 

And Farragut onr Cyclop 's fortune made. 

Where are the trophies of onr Yankee hrave ? 

The lecherous oj-der, and poor Mumford's gra^'e ; 

Ship Island's tortures, Mrs. Phillips' cell, 

For mei'CvV reign the cruelty of liell : 

A Shylock hi'otlier — a Prietorian Ijaud — 

A starving city and a plundei-ed land : 

These are his triumphs — Fisher was his shame, — 

Oil I triumpli worse than is the coward's name. 

'• Fll hlow Fort F'isher 'mong the region kites!'' 

Oh, glorious tliought I but ere the fort ignites, 

Our Cyclop's sailed away infirm of will, 

And saucy F'isher flash'd defiance still. 

•' Far better I were liennetlcaUy seal'd, 

Than homeward borne upon a bloody shield." 







■Hut liiild, (.■ii.iiij:;li : iKi i'urtlirr mc'II ihusiic 
Tlie iiiodein llayium. ■' Ik'Ulci'. " Chifl'. adieu. ■' 



The American Cyclops. 



27 



" Fort Fisher be my epitaph !" 'Tis meet, 

For long ago it gave thy winding sheet. 

But hold, enough ; no further we'll pursue 

The modern Haynau. " Bottled " Chief, adieu. 

Haply my country's freedom still remains, 

And with the night have passed oppression's chains 

Oh, may the storms which settle o'er our land 

Be gently lifted hy th' all-saving Hand ; 

The dove return ; fraternal discord cease, 

And millions join the Jubilee of Peace ! 




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